


Happily Ever After

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, marriage fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully get married.</p><p>Or do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever After

After 10 minutes had gone by, he knew.

She’d gotten cold feet. It was a day a little more than a decade in the making  _and she’d gotten cold feet_.

Ironically, at the first mention of marriage, Mulder had balked at it and protested they were “as good as married anyways”, and rejected the notion. It took a little goading on her part, but Scully was able to convince Mulder that it was something they needed to do, and _now she wasn’t even here._ It was not a demand on her part, though. It was a request.

There was a strange, swallowing feeling that was situated in his gut that made him feel as though he needed to get away from all of these people, most of which had their eyes on him, or on the door. He needed to know that Scully was okay, and to talk to her.

"Where is Dana?" He heard people whispering about her, and even the priest looked worryingly at the groom-to-be. Mulder was already facing the door, but a quick sweep of the hall—Scully’s side, where apparently, her whole family was, and his own, remarkably empty side filled with more friends than family, really—told him that no one had any idea where Scully, her mother, or Reyes was.

  
***  
The whole thing had been for her; for her family, and her enjoyment.  
  
"Scully, I would love you just the same, ring or not, but do we need a ceremony for it?"  
  
"We have to do it this way, please Mulder.” She insisted, finding comfort in trying to forge out an existence that she had deemed ‘socially acceptable’. It was something that she took pride in and of course, he endured it because he loved her.

It was not a demand on her part, though. It was a request. After all, they were still partners. And so, begrudgingly, Mulder accompanied her to the pre-marriage counseling at Scully’s church, and went through all the formalities to make it happen.  
  
Mulder was remarkably bad at it.

It was understandable, since his views on marriage were from the fractured one he had endured as a child, watching his parents drift apart. He had told himself it was never their fault, because if Samantha hadn’t gone, they would still be together, but as he grew older, he realized that while it was a catalyst, it was really only that, in the chemical sense of the word: a substance used to speed up the rate of reaction between two other substances, but not to be consumed itself in the resulting reaction. The facts of Samantha’s disappearance remained unchanged; the marriage, faulty from the start, was ended quicker and when his parents split, he realized that it was not something that lasted forever.  
  
Scully on the other hand understood the changes that would have to be made and accepted them with a sort of resignation, adding that she had already made most of these changes, long ago when she had met Mulder. She understood that she could not change Mulder and that he would never quite ‘settle down’. Yet she accepted this and almost welcomed it, because it had always been something she had liked about him.

Despite the differences of attitudes and opinions, around the third session, Mulder had a sort of breakthrough when he realized how much it meant for her to have this. They’d already been together for a while, and after the mess with the FBI in Virginia and Mulder not having to be a fugitive anymore, Scully saw the opportunity to finally move the relationship forward towards what she saw was the next step in the ladder of life: marriage. She had done everything else in her life out of order, but she wanted to get this right, and so, Mulder’s change in attitude was a welcome addition. But it was never a demand on her part, though. It was a request.

  
***  
"Mulder," Skinner said, approaching the younger man and placing a hand on his shoulder. Mulder’s muscles tensed under the unwelcome contact, but he relaxed when he realized it was Skinner addressing him. "I’m sure she’s being held up in traffic. Why don’t you call her?"

Mulder had not thought of that but he nodded, and produced his cellphone from his pocket, before dialing Scully’s number from memory. The line did not ring and went straight to voice mail.

"Her phone’s off," Mulder said quietly, as there was a murmur that rippled through the church. ‘ _She got cold feet.’_ They mentioned, but no one dare say it to his face. Not until he shook his head and stepped down from the altar.

"She’s probably got cold feet," Someone said, within earshot of Mulder. It was a cold voice, a voice he’d come to hate, a voice he acknowledged as the epitome of evil. His eyes drifted to the general direction, the smell of smoke filled his nostrils, and for a brief moment, he saw it. The Cigarette-smoking man. But he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, like a bad omen, and Mulder felt ill.

As he continued to the front doors of the church, they opened, and there, John Doggett stood, in his tuxedo, with a look of worry, and grief. Mulder stopped in his tracks, some sort of foreboding, primal instinct telling him that if he stood still, the danger would pass.

Doggett was followed by a police officer, and Mulder’s throat constricted, and he felt miles away from the church, the day, and the universe, as the truth was slowly becoming more and more apparent, unfurling like a wet, newly born animal that had been deposited on the ground in front of him.

"Mr. Mulder? Do you think you can come with me?" The officer asked, removing her hat. It was not a demand on her part, though. It was a request. Doggett moved towards Mulder, and pat his back once, before walking past to the others that were at the altar, to deliver the news. Mulder closed the distance between him and the cop, and was escorted out to the vestibule.

"I hate to be the one to have to deliver this news to you, especially since today is supposed to be a special day for you, but your fiance—your wife—she was in a car accident. There was a driver who was in a rush, and ran a couple of lights. He slammed right into the limo. There were a couple of other people in the car…" Her voice fell quiet, and Mulder knew what that swallowing feeling was.

"She didn’t make it, did she?" Mulder’s voice was unusually calm and indifferent. The police officer swallowed—it was harder on her, than it was on him.

"I’m sorry… her mother didn’t either. Will you let me take you to the hospital?" The officer said. It was not a demand on her part, though. It was a request.


End file.
